


Pen to Paper

by efrondeur



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, M/M, Military, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efrondeur/pseuds/efrondeur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His soulmate had been talking to him through the ink on his left wrist ever since the two turned of age. He said his name was Qrow. James knew he couldn’t hold on to himself for much longer, and James couldn’t blame him.</p><p>But he had never responded to him. When he was younger, it was because he was worried. Worried that Qrow would judge him for being weird. An outcast. He went into the army with the rest of his classmates in hopes of fitting in, and came to the conclusion that the moment he was out, he would find Qrow. However, he hadn’t exactly expected that losing half of his body would be the cause his discharge.</p><p>How could he ever face Qrow now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pen to Paper

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a "fic I won't write" game and I loved it, so I had to write it. 
> 
> Currently unedited
> 
> Basics:  
> \- Soulmates can talk to each other once each is 18  
> \- They talk through writing on an area on their body that shows itself to them when they become of age  
> \- 15 word maximum when they write  
> \- It's almost always a "love at first sight" kinda deal
> 
> Thanks to Ani for the prompt/idea

He spent his whole birthday excited. Scared. Hopeful. Terrified.

Should his soulmate be eighteen as well, James would be able to talk to them through a tattoo that would grace his body. He was just praying that he wasn’t unlucky enough to have it appear on his ass.

As was customary, he spent his eighteenth with his family. When the day was over and he got ready for bed, he stripped in front of the body mirror his parents had gifted to him. He looked for a red mark that would signify where his tattoo was. After searching for almost twenty minutes and coming back with nothing, he resigned himself to the fact that his soulmate wasn’t of age yet.

Every night for the next two and a half months he would check his body for any red marks. Every night for the next two and a half months he found nothing.

Seventy-six days after his eighteenth birthday, he awoke in the early to a small pain on his left wrist, directly under his palm. He rubbed the bleariness out of his eyes and stared at his wrist. It was red. _It was red_. Shit… it was red.

James had never exactly been… the popular guy. James was short, standing at only five-foot-six while he was a senior in high school. He was a science nerd with a love for engineering. People tended to like him when they first met him, but so few people had something in common with him, that most didn’t stay for long. He had Bart, a fellow engineer, but that was about it.

What if his soulmate didn’t like him? What if they thought he was too weird? Or what if they didn’t have anything in common?

The what if’s swirled around his head all day.

Even if James decided to take the chance and talk to them, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hi’ wouldn’t cut it, but the ink couldn’t form more fifteen words. He didn’t even know if they would’ve seen the mark yet.

The whole day was spent with James in a constant level of anxiety and panic. He didn’t tell his parents that his mark had shown up. That night, as he got ready for bed, he never took his eyes off his mark for more than a minute.

He couldn’t write anything. He wanted to, but his body wasn’t letting him. His hands wouldn’t work. As he pulled his covers over his leg, he felt a scrawling on his wrist. It wasn’t painful, but it was… different. Weird. But welcome.

“ _Hello?_ ” it spelled out in jet black ink. The script was jagged, but smooth. Pretty, but rough.

James heart raced in his chest. He should respond. He couldn’t. He wanted to respond. He couldn’t. He needed to respond. He couldn’t. He picked up the pen. Stared at it. Threw it across the room.

He ended up just staring at the ink, unable to move, barely able to think.

After about an hour, he saw the writing change as he felt the scrawling on his skin. “ _My name’s Qrow. I’m a guy. You?_ ”

James felt tears well up in his eyes. He was worrying him. He should respond. He started to shake. He wanted to make sure Qrow was okay. He needed this mark to go away.

Tears blurred his vision until James finally felt them spill over. He cried until he ended up passing out. From exhaustion, from dehydration, he didn’t know, and honestly he didn’t care.

 

* * *

 

James spent the next six months hiding the ink. At first, Qrow did everything he could to get James to talk to him. He would ask questions, answering the same ones himself. Summarize his day in the fifteen words he was allotted, sometimes just sending him multiple messages. James never responded.

As time went on, Qrow talked less and less. He only wrote to him about once a week now, but he still tried.

James wanted to talk to him, but every time he came close to responding, a panic gripped him and forced him to stop. James wanted to get out of high school first. He needed to make sure that if he got into contact with Qrow outside of their marks, he wouldn’t be able to see what a loser he was. He wanted Qrow to love him for him, and not use others’ opinions to influence his own.

So, as the school year ended, James made the decision to join the army. No one could resist a man in uniform, right? Qrow would like him then.

James also decided that once he had gone through his training, he would talk to Qrow. Then he could get his phone number and send him pictures of his military-muscled body.

 

* * *

 

James had two days left in basic training. He had barely gained any muscle. He was still lean. He had grown, but he was only five-foot-nine. He wasn’t impressive.

They had decided to make him an engineer rather than put him into the field or the front lines. Essentially, he was still the loser. The other recruits would take his underwear and hide it across the base. The servers would give him the crappiest of food. Even the drill sergeants didn’t care for him.

He couldn’t talk to Qrow. He just couldn’t.

 

* * *

 

He was two years into his military contract. He had finally finished growing, ending at an astonishing six-foot-six. Due to the training and work, he was broad and muscular. He was one of the top engineers at the base and had helped design a smaller, more effective drone, capable of locating Grimm from miles upon miles away. He had the schematics drawn up for a new gun that could deliver twice the damage, assuming everything worked properly.

All in all, he was confident. He was strong, smart, and, he had to admit, pretty good looking. He had a strong jawline, high cheekbones, broad chest, and stunning blue eyes.

He was ready to talk to Qrow. He had it all planned out, but he needed to wait until he was on leave so that he could have a real chance of talking to him. His commanding officer had approved his request and he would be on leave in three months. All that was left to do was wait.

However, James’ luck was absolute shit.

He had one month left until he could talk to Qrow. One month until he might be able to meet his soulmate. _One_.

And in that one month, he created a model for the new gun. He tested it out. It didn’t work. Frowning, James took it over to his workbench to take it apart to see what was wrong. He unscrewed the plate on the side of the gun and leaned over to his left to grab his flashlight.

Then everything went white. He didn’t remember much. He just remembered people screaming, a voice near his ear shouting his name. He felt a tingle in his right side, and then everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

James looked towards his grey glove sitting on the kitchen table, directly to his right.

A year ago, the gun had overloaded and exploded, taking out his entire right side. He now had a prosthetic arm, leg, torso, dick, and a reinforced spine and hip.

He hated it.

He had been confident before. He had wanted to talk to his soulmate. He was ready. Now, every time Qrow wrote to him James was ready to cry.

Qrow would never love him, a man made of metal. A man so destroyed the army refused to take him back. So destroyed  that it took him almost a year to recover, and he still dealt with pain on a daily basis.

He could never face him. At this point, he was afraid it had been too long. James was almost twenty-seven. Qrow first talked to him over eight years ago. There was no easy way to explain himself, so James just couldn’t do it.

Instead, he sat by as Qrow talked about his life. James knew his best friend had died while trying to fight Grimm, and his sister disappeared shortly afterwards. His brother-in-law cut him off and refused to let him near his nieces. He also knew Qrow couldn’t hold on to himself for much longer, and James couldn’t blame him.

James wanted to help him. James wanted to tell him everything would be okay. It was just _too hard_.

James sighed. He felt a scrawling on his hand. As time wore down on Qrow, his handwriting had gotten worse and worse. “ _Are you real? Are you alive?_ ” he asked.

He hung his head. Tears collected in his eyes. Qrow needed him. James needed to do this. Fuck himself and his stupid self-pity. _Qrow needed him_. James got up and grabbed a pen. He also grabbed a piece of paper. If Qrow was going to see his writing for the first, it needed to be beautiful.

He practiced writing ‘yes, I’m here’ over and over. It needed to be perfect.

James was shaking. It wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t do this.

He whipped the pen across the room. It shattered against the wall, spraying ink everywhere. A couple of specks landed on his wrist. They sunk in, disappearing within a couple seconds.

He felt the scrawling. “ _YOU’RE THERE? WHO ARE YOU? PLEASE, I NEED YOU!_ ”

No, no, no, no, no, no. James couldn’t do this. Not right now. No. _No_.

Qrow needed him.

 _No_.

“FUCK!” shouted James. He shot out of his chair, picking it up and throwing it. He just needed his brain to give him just _one second_ so he could think clearly. It wouldn’t give it to him. Instead, James backed into the wall, slid down it, and curled into a ball. He felt Qrow talking to him again, but he just couldn’t bring himself to look.

 

* * *

 

“ _I need you. Please, I don’t know what to do anymore. Where are you?_ ” asked Qrow.

It was two in the afternoon. James was in a mostly deserted bar, save for the other couple of people sitting and moping, just like he was.

Qrow had been talking a lot recently. The ink that got on his skin reinvigorated him, but at the same time, James saw how much it hurt him. Qrow was slowly becoming more and more sad. It seemed like he didn’t think that James wanted to be with him, which wasn’t true. James was just a coward.

It had been two weeks since James got the ink on his wrist. Two weeks since Qrow knew that James was there. Two weeks of Qrow trying to get him to do anything to get him to talk. Two weeks of watching Qrow lose any hope he had left. Two weeks of nothing but shame and guilt.

James sighed, tapped the counter as way of asking for another whiskey. The bartender finished stacking the couple glasses she had left and came over to fill his own up.

The bell on the door jingled as it opened. A tall, not as tall as James, lean man walked up to the bar. He was wearing a slightly baggy light gray sweater, and black skinny jeans. He had black hair that stuck out in the back.

He didn’t hear what the man ordered, but he did see him look down to his right forearm. He sighed deeply. He sat down at the bar, three stools from James, resting his forearms on it and hanging his head. He lifted it when the bartender brought over his drink.

The man looked around the bar, making eye contact with James. He had these beautiful, rusty red eyes. He looked tired. Worn out. Sad. A mass of emotions.

The man forced a small smile as a greeting and turned back to his drink. It was a very light, golden brown… probably scotch.

James turned back to his drink. After about thirty minutes, he saw the man take something out of his pocket. He looked out of the corner of his eye, and saw the man roll up the sleeve to his right arm and write something on his arm.

He felt the tell-tale scrawling on his arm. “ _Please. Help me. I need you. Please. I’ll do anything. Just please._ ”

The man stopped writing on his arm. The scrawling stopped. James’ eyebrows furrowed. He reached into his own pocket, where he always kept a pen with him, just in case.

He steeled himself. He needed to do this. He had to. Qrow needed him. This man might be Qrow. He could meet him. Qrow could hate him, but… James had to.

He pulled out the pen, discretely writing, “ _Qrow?”_ onto his wrist. The man’s eyes widened. He started to breathe quickly and loudly, almost panting. He instantly started to write on his arm.

“ _PLEASE, PLEASE! I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! WHAT’S YOUR SCROLL?_ ” said Qrow. The writing was sloppy.

James took a deep breath. He could do this. He could do this. _He could do this_.

“ _no, please don’t leave. i’ll stop, if that’s what you want. please._ ” said Qrow.

“Qrow?” said James. His voice was higher than normal.

The man turned to face him. He tilted his head. _It’s Qrow_ . _Fuck, he’s adorable_. “Do I know you?” asked Qrow. He was trying to be kind, but his voice sounded worse for wear.

James bit his lip. He wrote onto his wrist, “ _I think so._ ” Qrow looked down at his arm, then back up at James. His eyes widened.

He wrote on his forearm again. “ _You?_ ”

James looked down to his wrist and back up at Qrow. He nodded, smiling sheepishly. Qrow leaped off of his stool and ran over to James, cupping his face in his hands and yanking him into a kiss. It wasn’t much of a kiss, the two were smiling and giggling too much for it to actually work.

Qrow pulled back, but James followed him. He got off of his own stool and wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist, bringing him back in. Qrow wound his arms around James’ neck, deepening the kiss. There was no smiling this time, no laughing. Instead, they showed each other how much they loved each other. James kissed him like he never wanted anything else. Like Qrow was his lifeline, the only thing keeping him afloat. Qrow did the same.

One kiss turned into many, until the only reason they had to pull back was so that they could breathe. They kept their foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath.

“Why?” asked Qrow. He sounded worried, like he thought if he pushed too much James would run. He might not have been entirely wrong.

“I… it’s-it’s a really long story,” said James. His voice shook.

“Okay,” said Qrow gently. “Can I hear it at some point?”

“Of course, I just…,” James paused. “How about we get dinner? We can talk there.”

Qrow nodded his head enthusiastically. “Please.”

 

* * *

 

 

James told Qrow everything. His worries, insecurities, fears. Why he waited so long. Why he was so afraid. Qrow nodded. He understood. He forgave him, but he didn’t even know the worse part.

James told him about his prosthetics. Just how far they reached. _Everything_ that got replaced. Qrow didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. He wanted to love all of James, should he want or let Qrow.

Qrow told him about his life, the stuff that was too hard or too long to write down. How he was so sure it was his fault Summer died and Raven ran. Why Taiyang blamed him for everything. Why Taiyang almost chased him out of his house at knifepoint for trying to sneak in to see his nieces. That was why Qrow had needed him so much… well, one of the many.

James and Qrow understood each other. Qrow forgave him, although, he argued that there was nothing to be forgiven. James offered to be a third party, mediate with Taiyang so Qrow could at least formally meet the girls.

They were there for each other. Through everything. Through Qrow’s worries and horrible luck, which James found out they both had. Through James’ ills and pains. Through it all. They had each other. They _loved_ each other. They always would.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr](http://qrowisbae.tumblr.com)


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